Smoker.

Wallace

I inhaled greedily on my fat cigar.

The poisonous smoke burnt my sick lungs.

I exhaled.

The secondary smoke stained my interior decoration.

I did not care.

I am a tobacco addict.

I coughed.

And spluttered.

Green phlegm  exitted from my sick lungs.

I inhaled again.

My lungs did pain.

Again I coughed and spluttered.

My sitting room with poisonous smoke was cluttered.

I did not care.

I am a tobacco addict.

I feel ill.

But for me there is no curing pill.

I inhaled.

I exhaled.

I coughed.

I spluttered.

I died.

 

  • Author: Wallace (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 11th, 2017 03:36
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 29
  • Users favorite of this poem: ScarredStars
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Comments +

Comments2

  • orchidee

    Well, I would try to help - but you're dead now! Good write. It is an addiction thing, I agree. I feel sick at cigar smoke.

    • Wallace

      Thanks for comment.

    • Goldfinch60

      I used to smoke but gave up 34 years 11 months, 36 days ago.

      • Wallace

        Well done.



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